


That Was Then, This Is Now

by stutter_punk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - World War I, Anger, Angst, Angst with a sad ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Castiel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Dean Dies, Dean Winchester Dies, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, English, Feels, Friendship, Gabriel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Gas Attack, Heavy Angst, Homosexuality, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Memories, Military, Not Beta Read, POV Castiel, POV First Person, Pain, Panic Attacks, Panicking Castiel, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prompt Fic, Sadness, Trench Warfare, War, World War I, mentions of Gabriel - Freeform, mentions of Sam Winchester - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:23:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6023440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stutter_punk/pseuds/stutter_punk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of a man, and his journey through the trenches of Yprese<br/>A destiel mini fic.<br/>Originally an English assignment, I was given the prompt "That was then, This is now". I took the prompt, and decided to write a kind of world war one AU.<br/>The story is told from Castiel's point of view</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Was Then, This Is Now

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally an English assignment , my class was given the prompt  
> "That was then, This is now". I took the prompt, and decided to write a kind of world war one AU. In the final draft I gave my teacher, I changed the names of the characters.. didn't want to go and hand in some destiel fanfic :'))

I made the decision to go to war one evening in the autumn of 1915. I was sitting on a tall brick wall, watching as my two older brothers, Gabriel and Michael, kick around an old football on the muddy playing field. I had never been up to join them when they played, I preferred to just sit back and watch them. There was a chilly breeze in the air, the breeze blowing through my short ink black hair.

Leaning with his back to the tall wall I sat on was a young soldier, who looked to be my age. He was tall, lean and had slightly tanned skin . His eyes were a piercing bright green, like the new leafs in spring, and his hair a dirty blond, shaved shirt at the back and sides, into a neat military cut. He was looking out to my friends, as I was. But then, the soldier looked to me, and he smiled. I smiled back, and jumped off of the wall. The soldier leisurely strolled over to me and gave out of his hands left hand for me to shake. I took out my right, and we shook hands.

“The name’s Dean Winchester. I’m a Lance Corporal in his majesties army” The soldier said, his voice low, loud and enthusiastic, with an American twang. 

“It’s nice to meet you, my name is Castiel Novak.” I replied, my voice was quiet in comparison to his.

Me and Dean talked, he told me about how he had enlisted into the army when war had first broken out, and of how more men needed to go to war themselves and fight. I listened to what he had to say, only speaking when I thought it was appropriate. When we had finished talking, Dean gave me a flyer. 

This flyer had the address of the recruitment station on, along with a telephone number. Dean smiled, and told me to think about what he’d said to me... So, after I thought about what Dean had said, I enlisted into the army. My brothers enlisted too, themselves seeing it as an opportunity to get out of the small, countryside town, that we lived in. 

The journey to the trenches in Ypres, in Belgium was long, tiring and stressful. The train was packed with men, many seemed to be the same age as me, some older, some younger... I stood up, having not being able to get a seat, my mind full of dark thoughts and worries. I was starting to regret the decision I had made... I felt this feeling of fear overwhelm me, and I felt as if I was being pulled into a whirlpool of anxiety, panic and distress. 

My icy blue eyes were starting to tear up, and I had to bite down on my lips, to hold back these silent, chocked, repressed sobs of fear. I felt as if I was going to die there and then, I had always been an anxious person, and being on that packed train didn’t help me, so, I paced quickly to an area where there wasn’t many people, and leant back against the wall. I closed my eyes, and started to try and control my breathing. Suddenly, I heard a footsteps, and voice. The voice seemed so familiar. I opened my eyes to see Dean standing next to me. His eyes looking straight into mine. All he did was smile, before he pulled me into a friendly hug.

When we arrived in the trenches, we were all given a basic kit. This consisted of; an ironed, olive green uniform, a pair of lace up, steal caped, inky black walking boots, a gas mask, and a bayonet. Gabriel, along with a few other men, including Dean’s younger brother, Sam, had to have our hair shaved short. Gabriel’s new haircut was very much like Dean’s. His once long, gingerbread brown har, had been cut short at the back and sides. Sam’s hair cut looking almost the same.

The first thing I noticed about the trenches were the living conditions. The trenches were extremely narrow, we couldn’t walk in large groups, all spread out. We had to walk in single file, which Gabriel found very annoying. He always wanted to walk next to Sam, and sometimes, when no one was looking, Gabriel would run to Sam, and jump onto his back. The two of them laughing and smiling.

The first reserve trench I was in was infested with rats; I remember waking up one morning to find one of the little pests nibbling at the material on my trouser. I screeched when I saw it up close, and got up in a flash, trying to shake it off me... Dean just laughing at me, before walking over to me, lifting the rat by the rough skin of its tail, and then putting it outside the communal dugout me and Dean were sleeping in.

One evening, when I was in a support trench, it was bitterly cold. It was getting close to winter time. I sat with Dean, the two of us huddled together for warmth, under a thin piece of fabric . We both had mugs of a warm, tasteless liquid that we said to our self was tea. The two of us had used up the last of our days rations on making our self dinner. We laughed and smiled, Dean occasionally cracking the odd joke... But we just enjoyed to comfortable silence between the two of us. Dean wrapping his free arm around me, holding me close.

Me and Dean, we had bonded over the few months we had known each other, we’d become close, and I’d started to develop feelings for him... I think Dean had felt the same way, he would always look at me lovingly and smile shyly. We were always looking out for each other. 

I thought it was always going to be like that... But I was wrong..!! 

It all happened when the two of us were in the front line trenches. This was a few days before we were scheduled to go over into no-man’s land. It was an early morning; a thick layer of fog was blanketed over no-man’s land. Me and Dean we were both exhausted, having not slept very well for the past few nights. 

There was a cold nip in the air, almost like the one there was on the day me and Dean met. I stretched out my arms and stood up, I wandered out of the dugout I had been sleeping in. Dean on the other hand, He was still sleeping, leant against this pile of sand-bags that was in the dugout. His cloth backpack with all his equipment placed opposite to him, this too was leaning against a pile of sand bags. I thought I would let him sleep. 

Dean was a heavy sleeper; almost nothing could get him to wake up in the mornings. It would have been even harder to wake him on a morning like this, when the weather was cold, and our moral was low.

So I grabbed my backpack, slowly and quietly, I walked away from him. I passed through the front line trench, being careful not to step on anyone who was still asleep, or trip and fall onto the icy, frozen mud. I went back, through several of the communication trenches that were used as pathways between the different types of trenches... 

It took me several minutes to get to a large dugout in one of the trench walls, this is where I got my rations for the day. 

Just as I picked up a small metal tin of corned beef, and a little paper packet of wheat biscuits, I heard a loud, serious and stern voice scream one word...

“GAS!!”

I stood, looking up to the sky, and then, quickly, I pulled out my gasmask from my backpack and I put it on as fast as I could, my hands shaking, my mind racing... I was going into a state of panic, my breathing starting to become uneven, and my tired eyes tearful. Not thinking about anything else, I sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me, into the direction of the where the gas was coming from... I had to find Dean...!!

When I arrived back there, what I saw.. It would stay with me until the end of my days...

Dean, he... he had chocked on this vile gas... His body still leant against those sandbags. His dull, green, and now... lifeless eyes were wide open, staring straight into me. Glazed over with tears. Piercing me, like the bayonets we were told to carry and use.. Down both sides of his moth was this pail froth... An effect of this gas.. It killed you from the inside out..!!

I immediately fell to my knees, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of my stomach... 

Holding my gas mask covered face in the palms of my shaking hands, I screamed out Dean’s name, and then broke down into a sobs of shock, grief and fear. I didn’t move, as I heard people around me calling out... Trying to protect themselves, and our trench...

It was never the same, after he had been killed. I saw no.. no purpose in fighting. 

Sure, I had lost friends and colleges due to the war before. I’d lost both Michael, and Gabriel..., but loosing Dean, and seeing him in that state... His dead body against the sandbags... it left this image in my mind...

If I hadn’t let him sleep, and I hadn’t have left him.. He would have still been alive and well. 

In order for me to get away from the war.. Where the direct source of all my grief, guilt and trauma was.. I gave myself a blighty wound... Two shots of my bayonet, to my right shoulder, . The pain, it was excruciating. I remember, biting down on my lips, to silence the screams of agony, as I watched the blood flow from these two gunshot wounds... 

I served in his majesties army from the autumn of 1915, until the winter of 1916...

I have been home for three months, and I am still not myself. I get these nightmares, these painfully vivid nightmares, where I see Dean. I see him alive and well, I seen him smiling, and laughing, the two of us making jokes, I see the two of us together... Like on the night we both sat under the stars... He told me on that night, that if he was to die... I was to carry on without him, no matter how much it hurt...

How much longer am I going to last, living with these memories.. Memories of the man I loved..?!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I am so very sorry for the feels ;-;


End file.
